Can't Go On
by crossingfandom213
Summary: 5 years after the war Draco still woke with nightmares. The things he had done and seen were more then anyone could really move on from. So he had escaped in to a simple life hidden away from everyone. Little did he know that there were still dark forces at work around him. And through the darkness, an unlikely ally appears and shakes up everything he thought he knew.
1. Chapter 1

Ok, typical mumbo jumbo. I do not own any of the characters in this fic with the exception of 3 or so original characters that will be popping up later. All of the story elements and characters are owned by J.K Rowling. This is simply an homage to her great work and a telling of my own story.

Also warning, this is going to be slash, M/M Draco Malfoy Harry Potter pairing. If you are uncomfortable with that (though if you are I'm not sure why you clicked this at all, then please navigate away now. Though I now have it rated at T, I reserve the right to change my mind at any time to M. There will be adult language, drinking, and talk of death and other dark subjects.

Last but not least, this is my first fic so I really hope you guys like it. Please review if you can, it helps get content out faster. Also, add me to follow if you really like it. I will be trying to get content on at least once a week or so. Anyways, I hope you like it. Sit back, relax, and enjoy Can't Go On.

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Chapter 1

It was 4:30 in the morning when Draco shot up in bed. He was dripping with sweat and could feel a lump swelling in the back of his throat. Another nightmare had awoken him out of a dead sleep, and though that wasn't the first time that had happened lately, this nightmare had been more hellish then he was used to. It had been 5 years since the war, and for the most part life in the wizarding world had gone back to some semblance of normal. Most people had been able to go back to their homes and families, even as broken as they all were. People had jobs to attend to, school to complete, and lives that had to continue forward no matter how hard it would be. Yet for some, the nightmares of what had happened, of what they had done, would probably continue for the rest of their lives. Draco was one of those people. Nearly every night since the war the nightmares had been the same, just with different names, different faces, and different screams. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he deeply regretted everything he had done while the dark lord was in power. He had never really wanted to hurt anyone, much less torture them. All he had wanted was to be able to be someone else, with a different lineage, so that his fate wasn't decided for him. So he could have made his own mistakes. But as it had been, he was a Malfoy and that meant he had two choices. Become a death eater and do all that being one entailed, no matter his feelings about it, or shame his entire family and join up with the likes of the golden boy and more then likely be killed as a result. His choice had always been clear.

As he shook his head to clear the last of the dark images from his mind left over from a less than pleasant slumber, he took a second to take in his surroundings. Through the darkness he took in the few items he had left. A few books on hexes from his family library, a handful of sweaters and pants, and a set of silver and green sheets that were more worn then his mother would have ever approved of. Though his path had been clear while the dark lord was in power, as soon as the war ended he got a choice. Because his mother had lied about Harry Potter being dead, his family was spared any kind of real punishment for their actions. He was able to return to Hogwarts to finish his education and live his life as close to normally as possible. That was the theory of course. But things were not the same as they had always been. At school he was tormented by those who still saw him as the enemy. In classes his every action was analyzed to ensure he wasn't going to cause anyone harm. Even at home his parents didn't look at him the same, with a hollowness in their eyes that betrayed the emptiness left in their soul. And with every thing that his mother had told him during his last year at Hogwarts, he knew he no longer had a place in her home. For this reason he decided that once he finished school, he would disappear. So one day, long after his parents had gone to bed, he grabbed whatever he could fit in one bag, and closed the manor doors for the last time. If his parents ever tried to find him or contact him, he didn't know. He had disappeared, and that was exactly how he liked it.

Realizing there was no chance of getting back to sleep now, he decided with a sigh that he might as well get moving for the day. With a quick wave of his wand he brightened the room to a dull glow. His head was pounding entirely too hard from the lack of sleep he had been enduring lately to handle the bright florescence of the all too harsh muggle light hanging from the ceiling. He couldn't help but wonder how people so ordinary had even managed to survive in the world. Throwing open the door of his room, he peered into the only other real room in the small apartment he had procured just North of downtown London. Despite his desire to get away, he couldn't convince himself to go too far away from the city he loved. His apartment was small to say the least. It had just enough room to fit a television on a stand with some drawers to hold various odds and end, a small wood coffee table he had taken to using for everything, a decent sized black felt couch big enough for three, and a couple of chairs that came close to matching. Off to the left was the kitchen. With a small fridge, two burners, a microwave, and a sink, it was a far cry from the elaborate kitchen his mother had insisted upon in his grandiose home despite never once cooking. But what he had as he looked around was really all he needed. Not that he could have afforded more.

After starting a pot of coffee, Draco opened the fridge to stare absentmindedly at eggs, a few slices of bread, old cheese, and muggle beer on the shelves. 'Shit' he thought to himself, shaking his head dejectedly. Though he had known full well upon opening the fridge how empty it would be, he had hoped that some magic would have filled it while he slept. Having not been able to take a house elf with him, things like cooking, cleaning, and shopping had become his responsibility. And he wasn't very good at it. But his stomach felt like it was gnawing at him, so he would have to make due with what he had and go to the store in Diagon Alley later. All these mundane tasks had been so incredibly foreign to him when he first arrived. He didn't know the first thing about finding a place to live or cooking a meal, and spent most of his first few months at the Leaky Cauldron in a room with damp air that smelled mostly of dragon's breath. His meals were few and far between and he spent entirely too much money on firewhisky and nettle wine. But that was nearly a year ago now. Eventually he found an apartment in a wizard dominated community and a job writing stories under the pseudo name Reginald Rybeck for a local tabloid style paper that ran stories such as "Aliens: The New Wizards?" and "Godric Gryffindor Found Alive in Manchester Pub!" Though he wasn't proud of the distance from glory he had fallen, it payed 150 Galleons a week and ensured no one would ever find him.

But on cold October mornings such as this one, as the loneliness crept into the corners of his mind like a heavy fog, he wondered if that was what he really wanted. He was alone in this world. Aside from the occasional owl between himself and Pansy Parkinson, with whom he had become much closer after the war, he rarely saw or talked to anyone. Having to only go to his work once a week to turn in his stories, and Diagon Alley a few times a month for food and supplies, most of his time was spent at home reading or watching the television set he had happened upon in a muggle store. Their idea of humor and entertainment was crude and unintelligent to say the least, but he couldn't help but be sucked in to the monotony of it all when it was early and his dreams kept him awake. Normally it was enough, but on these lonely mornings, as he sipped his coffee and watched the sky turning a slightly brighter shade of gray, he realized how truly alone he really was.

After finishing up his admittedly pathetic excuse for a breakfast, he decided he might as well get ready for the day ahead of him. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was nearly 6:30. The Leaky Cauldron would be open in around 2 hours, and the rest of the shops shortly thereafter. Pulling himself into the bathroom, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. 'Fuck I look awful,' he said as he looked himself over. He had lost a lot of weight since moving here, mostly from not eating, and he had stopped taking as good of care of his skin and hair. Throughout school his hair was generally slicked back, while now it fell in his eyes and had a dishwater color in the otherwise platinum locks. His porcelain skin had become ashy and sullen and the circles under his eyes became deeper and more sunken by the day. 'Look at you now, the great Draco Malfoy. Bet the girls are clamoring to be with you like this.' He couldn't help but be down on himself. As long as he looked like this, he would be forever alone. Hoping in the shower, he decided to try to clean himself up today. He took longer then usual scrubbing his skin and hair, and when he got out he tried to make himself look presentable. He let his now shiny hair fall across his forehead, and he stood up straight. After slipping into some dark jeans and an emerald green sweater, he realized he looked better. Thought there was little he could do about his sleep strained eyes, he has a hint of the dignity and pride he used to carry himself with. He could almost pass for his old self, after all he didn't need people feeling sorry for him or knowing he was no longer well off. Deciding he looked good enough, he slipped on a black pea coat, and with a gentle pop he was in front of the pub he briefly called home.

As he pushed opened the doors, he was greeted with the all too familiar smell of butter beer, sherry, and corned beef wafting out from the back. He hated to admit it, but this place had become his home away from home as of late. It was too dingy for his family or friends blood, and if he sat in the back booth, not even his occasional old classmate would notice him.

"Good mornin Draco. Mighty early for you to be sauntering on in. What can I get ya?" Tom asked from behind the bar, as he dried glasses with a rag Draco doubted was clean. Though he tried for total anonymity, when you stay somewhere for a while, people are bound to notice and remember you are there. But Tom was nice enough and always left him be. He wasn't nosy and he never asked questions, two things Draco highly prized right now.

"Oh just the usual." Draco responded casually. When he had first arrived he had made quite a fuss about being a prat to everyone and acting entitled, as if the world owed him something. Though Tom had never given him crap for it, he also never enabled it. But the longer Draco was away from his father, the less he felt the need to verbally assault everything with a pulse.

"Firewhiskey on the rocks it is then." Taking a sip of his whiskey, he felt the burn trickle down the back of his throat. It was exactly that burn that he looked for, knowing it would help shake the cold of the morning air and the last memories of the shadow left over from last nights dreams. He knew it was a bit early in the morning to be drinking, but honestly, who was going to judge him? As he finished his first drink and ordered another, he heard a familiar voice entering the pub. He turned around and saw the last people he could have ever wanted to see.

"Harry, I just don't think we are going to find anything here. Hermione is so finicky about her jewelry and this is sort of an important decision ya know?" Ron Weasely spoke slightly frantic as he hung his coat on a hook near the door. "I mean, I need to rind a ring to make the girl want to marry me, not a book to learn new spells. That would be an easy buy, just find the longest most boring sounding one they have. Can't do that with an engagement ring."

Draco cursed to himself, not wanting to be noticed by these too of all people. He slipped his hood on and sunk back into the shadows of his booth in the corner and waited as they sat at the bar and ordered 2 butter beers. The last thing he needed was Weasel-bee and Potter to try and strike up a chat with him.

"Honestly Ron, I think you are being a bit dramatic. The ring isn't why she will say yes. It's you." Harry Potter said with an overly cheerful smile. Draco hated the way that, even after all that had happened to him, Harry managed to act like everything was fine and the world was made out of freaking sunshine. "Besides, they have some historic pieces in the new shop that just opened that I'm sure will strike her fancy. But hurry up and finish that beer, we don't need to be late for your mum's tea."

"Yur right Harry." Ron hiccuped a bit as he downed the last of his drink. "I'm just a wreck over this. I just don't want her to say no."

"Ron, you need to calm down." This was the last thing Draco heard. Their voices had trailed off as they exited the pub.

Just as he had hoped, he had managed to go unnoticed. Draco huffed to himself at the though of the weasel and the mudblood getting married. 'Even those two losers can find happiness, and I will be forever alone' he though to himself, feeling even more pathetic then he had this morning. His life was just a downward spiral into despair and nothingness. But what else could he do. After putting down the payment for his tab and downing the last of his third drink around a half hour later, Draco decided it would probably be safe to venture into the Alley now. Heading out the back door, he cautiously tapped the brick to gain access to the a part of the world muggles could never believe existed. Keeping his hood up, he glanced around to make sure he didn't see anyone important that could recognize him. When he decided it was safe he headed toward the bookstore. Seeing as he had finished all of his other books and he had a bit of extra money, he decided to treat himself. When he entered the shop, the small bell above his head tinged, announcing his arrival. He headed toward the hexes section before drifting to history, self teaching books, occlumeny, and finally the fiction. Finding an action novel with a werewolf on the cover, he settled on this and a book all about Salazar Slytherin that he hadn't read yet. A galleon and a half later, he was back out the door.

But the second he stepped outside something didn't feel right. He couldn't place his finger on it, but it felt like someone was watching him. There was an energy in the air that was all at once familiar and terrifying. Pulling his hood a bit farther down over his face, he slowly inched in the direction of the market scanning every face he saw. With every passing second, Draco's heart beat faster. He could feel the anxiety swirling around his head as if someone was holding a wand at his throat with the killing curse on their lips. Then, just as he believed he was being overly paranoid, he spotted the woman that was giving him so much dread, even before he had seen her. Narcissa Malfoy, his mother.

His normal calm demeanor broke, as he began to panic. She couldn't see him. He looked around trying to find an escape. Just to his left was a crowd that would easily draw attention to his location, behind him was the market which, to the best of his knowledge, had no other exit then that from which he came. As he slunk back into the shadows of the overhang, he knew he had mere moments to decide what to do. Then, just as he was sure he was too late two hands shot out from the dark of an alley he hadn't noticed, one firmly over his mouth, pulling him back into the dark and preventing him from screaming. Reaching for his wand ready to fight, he looked up into the face of his apparent attacker and realized it was none other then his arch rival. Harry Potter.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Harry couldn't help but laugh as he watched his best friend frantically eye all of the ring's in the display case at the very front of the recently opened Merlin's Jewels in the center of Diagon Alley. They had been circling the shop for nearly thirty minutes by this point, and seeing as it was a rather small shop, had seen everything at least four times. The worst part was this was now the third shop they had visited, and still they had not left one with a ring. By now the kind, young witch who had been helping them had clearly gotten bored and had wandered into the back of the store, obviously assuming that they were incapable of making a choice. It was probably a bit rude to laugh, but at this point the entire ordeal had become quite comical. "Ron, honestly mate, you have to choose one. She is going to love anything you get her."

"Bloody hell Harry, it's hard ok?" Ron exclaimed, running a hand through his already frazzled hair. "She is already so far out of my league, I'll be lucky if she doesn't laugh in my face. I at least need to try to make sure the ring is perfect." Ron circled back towards the first case again, looking at an assortment of what were called witch cut diamond jewels. Ron muttered something about just calling them squares under his breath.

Harry rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of that statement. "Ron, she loves you! She wants to be with you. Hermione isn't the type to stay with someone out of pity. She is a smart and beautiful woman, and has been in love with you since at least our fourth year. You damn well know that"

In truth, they had been obvious about their feelings the night of the yule ball. Both he and Ron were with dates that they were not the least bit interested in, and while Harry had been busy pining over Cho Chang, Ron had been fuming at Hermione. He had rudely asked her to the ball when he had no one left to ask, simply assuming she was going alone. And while he had initially asked her to the ball as a sort of back up date, all that changed when she arrived. It had been like some sort of fairy tale to watch. Hermione swept around the corner at the top of the stairs and her dress curled around her ankles to catch up. She stood a moment to find her date, and in that moment Harry saw Ron's face change. He witnessed a change in his best friend, whose main priorities up to that moment had been Quidditch, chocolate frogs, and wizard chess. Yet in that moment, and indeed it didn't last more than a moment, his face suddenly got older and showed that he had a new priority, her. Though it was quite easy to see why. Up until then they had both only seen her as the overly cautious, insanely brainy, crazy haired best friend who they had saved from a troll. But tonight, at the top of that stairwell, she looked like an entirely different person. Ron would later drunkenly describe her as an angel. Her normally frazzled hair was swept neatly off her shoulders, her beautiful blue dress a stark difference to her normally plain robes, and her smile shined so bright that is lit the room as much as any enchantment. He could not even deny how stunning she was, but it was Ron who, in that instant, fell in love. But as quickly as the moment came, it slipped away.

When she spotted him she scowled, still obviously hurt that Ron had treated her as less than a lady earlier that night, and Ron pretended not to stare at her for the duration of the evening. They had gotten into a screaming match over it at the end of the night where she called him out for not having the guts to just ask her for real. What no one knew was she had long been in love with Ron, and was simply waiting for him to catch up. They began to bicker more and more after that, and neither ever seemed particularly happy about the other. To many it seemed that they were like brother and sister, but Harry saw right through it. Over time, it became clear that they saw each other as much more than friends. Between Ron's obvious jealousy toward anyone seemingly interested in Hermione and her overwhelming fear anytime something happened to Ron, by sixth year they were the only ones really unaware of how deep their feelings went. Despite a few bumps in the road, no one was more thrilled then Harry when they finally got together during the war. And now, years later, Ron still hadn't realized that he was the only one she had ever loved.

"I just want it to be perfect for her. I just love her so much, and I don't want to spend anymore time with her not by my side.. I want her to be my wife." Ron said quietly, clearly embarrassed. Though they had been together for so long, Ron still wasn't used to talking to Harry about things like feelings. It was a bit out of the norm for them.

"Don't worry, she will be." Just as he was speaking, Harry got an odd tingle down up his spine that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Though he couldn't be sure what it was about, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen, and not something good. While it didn't feel as dire as when his scar would burn when Voldemort had been near, it definitely didn't feel like a good omen. "Hey Ron, you keep looking and I'll be back in a few. I'm going to go walk around a bit." Ron shook his head slightly and muttered something under his breath about metals (or maybe he had said nettles? Harry couldn't be sure), clearly less than interested in what Harry was saying. As he went outside, the sensation seemed to be getting stronger. His intuition told him to push on to the right, like he was needed there or being drawn there. As his eyes scanned the crowd of multicolored robes, he saw a flash of white blonde hair ahead of him, that could be none other then that of his childhood foe, Draco Malfoy.

It had been years since anyone had really heard from him. Admittedly, fate had been less than kind to him after the Dark Lord had fallen. In school he got hexed nearly daily, people constantly calling him death eater and telling him he should be in Azkaban. Draco had never been kind to him growing up, so a part of him felt like he deserved everything that came to him, but still Harry knew what it felt like to be the outsider and he pitied him for it. But after years of name calling, hexes, threats, and violence against Harry and his friends, this felt like karma, so Harry never stepped in. After school had ended, his family had been free, but had the tendency to keep their heads down. On occasion they would run into each other in a book shop or while picking up supplies, but even that had stopped. Harry had asked around about him once or twice out of curiosity, but no one seemed to know where he had been. That never seemed odd to Harry but seeing Draco now, there was a part of him that felt maybe he should have given more thought to that. Especially since that damn prickling seemed to be carrying him that direction. Then, without warning, he saw Draco stop dead in his tracks.

It only took a moment for him to see Mrs. Malfoy on the other side of the road and, judging from the look of terror in Draco's eyes, it was clear he did not want to see her. Harry stood a moment longer, before slipping into a nearby alley. He watched Draco look around, looking for an exit. Why wasn't he noticing this alley? Something deep in Harry's gut told him that he had to help, so without another though he grabbed him around the waist and mouth and pulled him into the alley. It took a few seconds for Draco to register what had just happened, but as he did Harry watched his eyes go from fear to anger to shock to confusion. But Harry kept his grip on the blonde's mouth so that Draco couldn't yell and get them spotted and shoved him hard against the wall with all of his strength.

Draco's breath was hot against his hand, and the closeness made Harry feel more then a little uncomfortable. Once the look of shock left Draco's eyes, Harry leaned in next to his ear and whispered "stay down, unless you want to get caught." Though he looked like he didn't want to listen, he gave a single harsh nod. Harry let go and went to peak around the corner. Narcissa was there, and had the same severe look on her face that Harry had seen many times before. Her stride had not broken and she still seemed as if she was on a mission. He was sure that she hadn't spotted them, but he stayed hidden just to be sure. A few tense minutes later, he watched her platinum locks disappear into thin air. Once he was sure she was gone, he went back to Draco, who had clearly pulled himself back together. It was only in that moment that Harry noticed his ashen skin and dark circles. He looked nothing like the arrogant boy who he had rivaled with through school. To Harry, he looked like a toy that had been broken long ago. "Are you alright?"

Draco pulled his shoulders back before smirking. "I'm fine. Certainly didn't need help from you."

"Right," Harry scoffed. "That's why you looked like a scared puppy back there." Though he might not look the part anymore, he certainly still acted like the haughty prat he had always been. Harry was beginning to regret saving him. But, even as he thought this to himself, he could see there was something off about Draco, something deeply wrong that he was simply masking with his false sense of self-righteousness.

"I most certainly did not!" Draco exclaimed, pulling out his wand and pointing it Harry's direction. "Now get out of my way before I blast your stupid fucking head apart."

The threat probably would have been much more convincing if Draco hadn't begun to visibly shake. Harry knew then that he was right, there was something very wrong with Draco. Cautiously, he took a small step forward, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. Draco's shakes began to get more violent, before he finally collapsed into Harry's arms. Yes, there was most definitely something very wrong with Draco Malfoy, and it seemed now that is was going to be his job to help save him.

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I had so much fun writing this chapter. I was really nervous to write for Harry because I didn't know if I could really get in his head, but I am happy with how it turned out. If you feel either of them is a little OOC, please give me a little leniency. It is my first time writing fanfic's, and I am using my own creative license to weave the story I have in my head. That being said, I do appreciate constructive criticism and any thoughts you are having. I hope you are enjoying everything so far. All I'm going to say s strap in guys. We have a long way to go, and I'm just getting started 3


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you guys so much for being patient with me getting this chapter posted. I have had a very busy week with getting a new job and taking care of other real life things, and have been rather neglectful with my writing. Thank you so much to all the new people who have liked and followed this story. There are some really awesome things coming for you, and I hope you guys are as excited about it as I am. I will try to get the next chapter out to you guys as soon as I can. Please rate if you can, it helps keep me happy and know you guys are liking what you read. Love you all, and I hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter 3

_He was running down a hallway that was faintly lit. He was terrified but knew he had to keep moving. The dark mark on his arm was throbbing, telling him that he needed to get moving to the Dark Lord, yet he kept running. Was he running away or toward something? Try as he might, his memory felt clouded. Then from up ahead he heard a loud scream, one that echoed though his head as being someone important. Immediately after he saw a flash of green light. No, he was going to be too late, he couldn't be too late. He had to save her. He reached out his hand and yelled out, as the image around him began to fade..._

Draco's eyes snapped open. Just another dream, it was just another dream. But everything around him certainly felt like it was. His head was throbbing, the lights were to bright, and he heard a faint beeping coming from somewhere nearby that he couldn't quite place. Despite his best efforts, his memory seemed hazy and very much like a dream. There was most certainly no way that he had been in an alley way, escaping his mother, then "saved" (if you could even call it that) by Harry bloody Potter. Yet he looked around and realized he had no idea where he was. As his eyes began to adjust, he realized he attempted to piece together what was going on. He could tell he was on a couch, there was a fireplace in front of him, and the entire place smelled of dust. It was dark and the furnishings were quite outdated. This did not seem like the kind of place that was meant to feel like home, though he was certain there was a time it was quite grand.. Even his tiny apartment felt more welcoming then this place. Also there was a machine that he recognized from Madam Pomfrey's wing at Hogwarts, though he had no idea what it did, but it seemed to be where the infernal beeping was coming from. Normally Malfoy would have shot a quick curse at it to shut it up, yet when he reached for his wand it wasn't there.

Before he had a chance to panic about it though, he heard voices from the hall. Most he could not make out, though the voice of his school age rival was clear as a dripping pipe at midnight. 'Crap" he cursed to himself 'it wasn't all a sodding dream.'

"Why on Earth would you bring him here?" A man's voice was heard saying, hushed but clearly agitated.

"Well what was I supposed to do, leave him there to be discovered? Besides, you weren't supposed to be home for two weeks!" Harry sounded equally as annoyed.

"Calm down Remus, Harry was just doing what he thought was right. Can you honestly say you wouldn't have done the same for Severus in our youth?" A second man's voice was heard saying. His tone was pleading yet oddly authoritative. "They are looking for him, after all."

"What concern is that of mine?" The man called Remus replied, decidedly less hushed then before.

"Quiet down, I don't want him to wake up." Harry spat back.

"Because it's what Severus would have wanted." At that their voices began to fade upwards, disappearing up the stairs, leaving a very confused Draco to ponder everything he had just overheard.

So someone was looking for him. Someone that Severus wouldn't have wanted to find him. And someone that Harry Potter, this unidentified man, and this Remus person also didn't want to find him. Remus was angry that Harry had brought Draco... wherever he was. A house perhaps? Though he now felt quite alert, his brain still felt like it was in a haze as if he had been drinking too much mead. He sat up and shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He remembered needing to go shopping, drinking at the leaky cauldron, seeing his mother, being pulled into an alley, being pressed up against Potter (no that couldn't be right), then it was all black. What was happening to him? And how long had he been out? Through trying to work it all out. He became so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't hear a single pair of foot falls on the stairs, in the hallway, and making their way into the room in which he was momentarily confined.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed in surprise. The unexpected sound jarring Draco out of his confused state and causing him to jump a bit. Despite his best efforts to overcome it, he was still relatively jumpy after the war. He supposed it would take time before he didn't see demons behind every corner and brace for death at every unforeseen sound. "I didn't realize you had woken up."

"Of course not, that would require you to be observant Potter." The blonde quipped, though even he realized it was missing it's typical edge. Even Harry rolled his eyes.

"Shut up Malfoy. How are you feeling?" He said, quickly giving the foreign instruments making the offensive beeping a once over, clearly more aware of what they were used for then Draco was. Thinking of that reminded him that he still had no idea where his wand was, much less where he was.

"Hey! Where the hell is my wand?" Draco shot off the couch he had been sitting on, brows furrowed in anger and accusation. In two strides he was across the room, inches from Harry's face. Though the gesture was meant to be intimidating, it made him a bit woozy, forcing him to sit on a nearby chair.

"Relax. You will get it soon enough. I didn't need you rolling over on it in your sleep and snapping it. Which I'm sure you would have seen as my fault." Harry hit a few buttons on the machine and the beeping stopped. "Now, I believe I asked you how you were feeling."

Draco could feel the blood rushing behind his ears. He wanted his damn wand, but he could tell he was still far from ready to put up a fight. "Bloody perfect, never better. I'm sure the dizziness and blurry memory is just a side effect of how perfect I am doing. Now do you want to tell me who in the hell is after me and what I'm doing here?"

Harry looked taken aback, much to Draco's gratification. "You weren't supposed to hear that." Harry's eyes narrowed, clearly not happy that he had been found out.

"Well that much was obvious from the whispering. Now answer my damn questions." He was rapidly losing patience.

"You first. Why were you scared of your mother?"

"It's none of your damn business is it?"

"Well considering that I saved your bloody life-"

"I never wanted anyone to save me!" Draco heard his voice break. This was the last thing he wanted to say to the likes of Potter. He had always worked so hard to never let anyone see him down. He was meant to be perfect. He was meant to be strong. He was a Malfoy, if not only in name. But did that really mean anything anymore? Since abandoning his home, his belongings, his upbringing, was he really the proud owner of that name and everything it entailed? No, he was not that man, or really that boy, any longer. Despite that though, he couldn't let the golden boy with her perfect friends, his perfect job, his perfect girlfriend, and his perfect life see him break. Besides, the last time he saw him like this, it nearly killed him.

It was sixth year, mere months before the end of term, and he was charged with killing Dumbledore less his family be murdered. Now, he was a brave man to be sure, but even this sent a chill of fear through him. They may not have been much, but they were all he had. Yet try as he may, he couldn't go through with it. Through the stress of his assigned task and the lack of anyone to talk to he had become friends with Moaning Myrtle. She was always there to listen to him, she never judged him for what he was going through or doing, and talking to her was the only time he could let go. One day when it had all become to much, he found himself again in the bathroom confiding in her. When he looked in the mirror, looking at eyes almost as dark and cheeks almost as sunken as his were now, he didn't even recognize his own reflection. He only saw the monster that had been turning him into. In that moment, he broke down in tears. That was when Harry walked in. He didn't even think to regain his composure before firing a spell off. For the next few minutes, it was just a backward barrage of spells until a spell hit him clear in the chest that he didn't recognize. Part if him hoped it would kill him so he could be rid of the task at hand, yet mostly he was just angry. Angry Potter had bested him, angry he was in this situation at all, and mostly angry he had seem him vulnerable. Malfoy's are never vulnerable.

That was why Harry absolutely could not see that again. So he straightened up, brushed it off, and sneered. "Malfoy's don't need saving."

The Gryffindor swallowed hard, clearly biting back whatever insult was about to leave his lips. He was never easy to goad into a fight, and this was the one time Draco didn't feel like trying. "Ok, Malfoy. I won't save you. But you should know-" Harry's eyes lifted to meet his, with a look in them he couldn't quite place (though it was the first time he noticed his green eyes), "-you may have just found your way into a place that you may find you need saving from."

With that, Harry reached into a nearby drawer of some built in cabinets around the fireplace and produced Draco's wand. It never occurred to him they would be keeping it in the room with him. Harry reached out his arm, but did not move, clearly intending for Draco to come get it from him. For a moment he runs his left hand through his now tousled locks, trying to choose the path most likely to get him what he wanted. He still had questions that no one else could answer but this man standing right in front of him, offering him a way out with no further expectations. So Draco did the most logical thing he could think of. He sat down. "Alright Potter, if you have answers spill them. What happened to me yesterday? Who's watching me and what do they want?"

Harry looked confused. " What do you mean what happened yesterday?"

Draco rolled his eyes, and sighed audibly. For someone so renowned is the wizarding world he could be quite daft. "In the alleyway? When you sav- I mean pulled me away from my mother? When I passed out?"

Harry stood very still then, which worried Draco immensely. "Draco," Harry started, much softer and quieter then before, "that wasn't yesterday. It's September 23. Draco, that was nine days ago."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter live. I have been working on writing, but I got this new job and things have been stressful so I haven't spent as much time writing as I would like. I try to stay one to three chapters ahead of what I have posted at all times for cases exactly this reason, but I've gotten my muse back it seems. I hope you guys are liking everything, because I am having so much fun writing it. With any luck my next chapter should be up very soon. This is not one of my longest chapters, but the next one is a doozy. Keep reading and reviewing, and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4

Harry was surprised how heavy Draco felt falling into his arms. It didn't help that he fell into them with all of his weight. Catching him was instinct. As much as he wanted his nemesis to fall and knock himself into a coma, the good in him just couldn't allow himself to. So here he was, in the most awkward moment he could imagine, holding up a very unconscious Malfoy with no idea what to do. Harry looked around, and tried to think. He had to get them somewhere safe, away from the possibility of prying eyes. Somewhere people weren't libel to find them. Somewhere... then it hit him! Why hadn't he thought of it before. He quickly scanned his surroundings to make sure they weren't followed and made sure he had a firm hold around the other boy. He then popped them to the safest place he knew. 12 Grimmauld Place.

With a pop, they went from the cold alleyway to the front steps of the once great home of the Black family. With a few disgruntled groans from Harry, he managed to heave the other boy over his shoulder and trudge up to the door. A quick wave of his wand later and the door was open. Making his way into the drawing room, he couldn't help but notice the fire was already lit. This would be good for them both to thaw their cold bones. With a small bit of maneuvering he managed to get Draco onto the couch. Once situated though, Harry realized he had no idea what to do next. It was beginning to make him panic. The last thing he needed was Malfoy to die on him. He may hate the guy but there was already too much blood on his hands, and Draco did save his life once upon a time.

As Harry paced the floor, he kept glancing over at the boy who, at one time made his hell. What had led them here? An hour ago he had been helping his best friend pick out a ring for his soon to be fiance and now he was watching the color drain out of the face of someone he didn't even like. As he contemplated what to do, he heard a crack from outside followed by footsteps coming up the stairs. All he hoped was his god father was in an understanding mood today.

As Sirius walked into the room, Harry looked in a panic. Sirius looked confused as he looked from the boy on the couch to Harry and back. "What happened?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He was so grateful for his god father. He was always a reasonable man, and had a definitive soft spot for Harry. He was always willing to listen without judgment to his side of things and do so with patience and understanding. There was an immense trust built between them, and that had only grown when Sirius almost died. A few years back, during one of the first fights of the war, Sirius was in a fight with his psychotic cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. During their fight, she launched a killing curse right for him. As fate would have it though, it was at that exact moment that he was darting the other direction to knock his best friend, Remus Lupin, out of the way of a particularly nasty hex. The killing curse flew within centimeters of his head, singeing his hair as it flew by and disappeared into a machine whose origins Harry never learned. After that moment, both realizing they nearly lost the other, they became closer then they thought they ever could be, as did Lupin and Sirius. Sirius frequently told him how he had saved his life, though he refused to accept it, saying he had done nothing other then be in trouble himself. Regardless, their friendship was also never the same after that.

And it was this special bond Harry shared with Sirius that he had counted on today. "It's Draco. I think he's dying."

The next few hours were a blur. Sirius immediately did some simple spells over Draco's unconscious figure, then told Harry to send for a healer. Within minutes there was a pop outside followed by the rush of robes as a healer Harry didn't know went over and conjured a machine out of thin air and shooed Harry and Sirius out of the room and into the kitchen down the hall. Both seemed stressed, Harry pacing the floor and occasionally peaking his head in the room and Sirius keeping busy by rearranging the jars of newts eyes and wolfsbane and the like on his pantry shelves.

Finally, as the sun was beginning to fade, the healer called them both in to the drawing room, which by this point looked more like a hospital wing then "Firstly, I feel it is only proper if I introduce myself. My name is Jace Finnigan." His voice had a thick Irish accent to it and sounded quite pointed. It was the first tome that Harry noticed the doctor had sandy brown hair, was rather tall, and could not have been more then two years older then Harry. As the doctor greeted them, Harry noticed that he did not hold out his hand before he continued, which Harry found odd. "Mr. Malfoy here is very sick. I have a monitor near the couch he is lying on, please do not move it or him. It will be reporting right back to me until he awakes. There are 3 numbers on it. The number in red tells his current heart rate, the number in purple is his rate of healing, and the number in green is how much poison is left in his system."

"Poison?" Harry sputtered. Draco had been poisoned?

"Oh yes," Jace said, rather nonchalantly considering the circumstances. "I suppose I a getting a bit ahead of myself aren't I? When I did my check, he was barely breathing and his temperature was dropping rapidly. I initially checked him for scrofungulus, dragon pox, and a number of other maladies but saw no sign. Lucky for Mr. Malfoy though, I happen to have been trained during the war, so those in my class were trained to look not only for magical answers but also for man made concoctions meant to harm. As it were, this is exactly the case here."

"Are you saying that someone is trying to kill this boy?" Until he spoke, Harry nearly forgot that Sirius was in the room. Sirius sounded concerned, which worried Harry more then he would have expected.

"I'm saying that, unless Draco here is a very advanced potions master trying to commit suicide, then you definitely have a case of attempted murder on your hands." The young healer stated. "This is someone of the most advanced potion work I have ever seen. I have always considered myself a bit of an expert when it comes to magical potions and poisons, and even I almost missed it. To be honest, had you waited another day or so, there is nothing even I could have done to save him."

Harry was in shock. Why would someone want to kill Draco? How did someone even find him. Once again today, he found himself pacing the floor while Sirius and Jace spoke over Draco's care. As far as he knew, and he doubted his information was wrong, Draco had all but disappeared. Around 2 years ago, Lucius Malfoy had gotten caught up in some more wrong doing's and had gotten himself locked up, and his mother had moved in with a friend, essentially abandoning Malfoy manor. Yet ever with all of this going on, Draco was no where to be seen or heard. Harry looked over at Draco. This was probably the one and only time he would see him so peaceful, and laying like this, looking so broken, it was almost hard to believe all of the terrible things he had done.

As he thought this, he heard Mr. Finnegan bid Sirius good day and take his leave. He wasn't a very pleasant man, but at least he had saved Draco's life. He looked up at Sirius, who motioned for Harry to follow him into the kitchen. They needed to talk.

"Harry, what exactly is going on here? Why is there a poisoned Malfoy on my couch?" Sirius had a tone of sternness but not accusation. "What happened?"

"Well..." Harry smoothed a hand through his messy black hair, trying to decide where to start. He quickly gave Sirius an overview of the last few hours, careful to not leave anything out. "It was so weird. I used to get those odd sensations in my scar to alert me of danger, but this was like a gentle pull on my spine. It was like I was supposed to go find Malfoy. And when he passed out I couldn't just leave him there to be found or killed. I knew he needed to get somewhere safe, and this is the safest place I know."

Sirius sat patiently through the entire story, barely moving an inch except to grab some tea. Harry had trouble gauging how his god father was taking the entire thing. After a few moments of contemplation, Sirius spoke. "So, you were drawn to Mr. Malfoy here, he seemed afraid of his mother, and he passed out. Now we come to find out he had been poisoned. It's all very curious. Perhaps I should write Remus, he's out of town for the next couple of weeks you know." Sirius seemed lost in his own thoughts, not really looking at anything.

"Sirius, I know it all seems odd but this worries me. Someone after Draco like this. I feel like this is just the beginning of something, and I am somehow supposed to be involved in it." Harry felt the familiar warm tingle down his back, pulling him to the boy, no he supposed he was a man now, lying on the couch in the other room.

"I think I agree with you Harry. There has been some... whispers amongst the order. Talk of an uprising." Sirius said softly, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to over hear him. "I've been writing it off as nothing but this event is curious. Why would someone be targeting him? He hasn't even been on the radar for at least 3 years as far as I know." Sirius grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and penned a quick owl. Harry was sure it was to some member of the order. "I do have to ask though, why was this such a concern of yours? I know you say you couldn't just leave him but I was under the impression that you hated the boy. Was I wrong?"

Harry wasn't sure what the older man's tone implied, but he could tell he didn't like it. "I don't like him! I never have! He made me and my friends life hell all through school and never cared about anyone but himself." He realized he probably sounded childish getting so defensive, when the truth was he wasn't even sure why he rescued his childhood rival. "Rescuing him was the decent thing to do."

Sirius let out a loud laugh and patted Harry on the shoulder. "Relax! It doesn't matter. You did the right thing, whatever your motivation. It's not like I accused you of being in love with the bloke."

"Shouldn't we get back to the real issue at hand? There's someone out there trying to kill people again. I can feel it in the air. This is bad."

"Right you are Harry." Sirius' voice instantly snapped back to a more deliberate tone. "Alright well I don't know much. I know there have been some names thrown around of people who may be involved, the usual suspects, but no concrete evidence. The only thing I know for sure is this, they are being called The Dark Collective."

At this all of the color drained out of Harry's face. So it was them. The new war had begun.

* * *

"9 days!" Draco bellowed. Harry tensed at the sound. "You have to be bloody joking, I can't have been out for that long. This is all some ruse right Potter?" Draco spat his name, like it felt dirty in his mouth.

"I'm not joking Malfoy, why on Earth would I joke about something like this. Something bad is happening to you." Harry was reluctant to tell him everything, though he knew he should. Draco wasn't particularly reasonable on his most pleasant days. But he really had no choice. "You're safe here and I really think you should stay until-"

"Stay! With you! I'd rather stay in Azkaban!" Draco interrupted, loudly.

"Please, you are in danger out there. It's not safe. There are things going on that you don't know, things we are even struggling to explain!"

"Then tell me Saint Potter, what exactly is it that you can do for me that I can't do for myself. I'm twice the wizard you will ever be!"

"That is so not the point, you are safe here! If you leave we can't protect you!"

"And why the hell do you even care what happens to me?"

This was the second time today that he had been asked that question and to be honest he didn't really have a good answer. So, he lied. "Because it's my fucking job!"

"Great. Just great Potter. Well, since my well being isn't exactly a priority to the ministry I think I will take my leave now." Draco dipped in to a small sarcastic bow, and turned around to leave.

"Someone tried to kill you!" At this Draco stopped walking and stood up completely stiff. There was at least ten seconds of silence, where neither man so much as breather, though it felt like an hour. When he turned around, Harry saw that his face was even more white then it usually was. Seeing that he wasn't going to talk, Harry continued. "They're called The Dark Collective and that is practically all we know about them." He looked down a moment to wait for Draco to respond, but all the other did was sit down on a nearby chair. "The reason you have been here, unconscious for over a week is, we believe, they tried to have you killed. Draco, you were poisoned."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_He was somewhere familiar, though he could not place exactly where. It had high ceilings, large windows with the shades drawn shut, and everything was rather dark from the furniture to the paint. It felt cold, the kind of chill that went to his bones. Though he wasn't sure why, he felt an anxiety deep in his core. Something was wrong, there was something he should be doing. What should he be doing? It was then that he heard her scream. That was what he needed to be doing, he needed to save her. Everything snapped into place around him. His mother and father were there, looking much worse for wear, his mother weeping. He began to run down the hall opposite the drawing room of his old home in which he now stood. He ran as fast as his legs would take him. The hall appeared to stretch forever, and the screams seemed to get louder and more excruciating as time went on. He had to save her. Just then his dark mark began to burn, beckoning him to the dark lord. He knew he was supposed to go, but he was almost there. He could save her. Then, as if in slow motion, he saw the hallway light up green from the cracks beneath the door in front of him, telling him he was too late. Just a breath later he reached the door, wand in hand and threw it open..._

Draco woke screaming, covered in sweat, and immediately began to sob. It was enough that he kept dreaming of the people he had hurt, people around him dying, the terrible things he had done. But now he couldn't shake the dreams of her. He looked around and realized he was still on the couch in the decrepit old home to which he had been brought, and thought back to last night.

The last clear memory he had was arguing with Harry Potter and being told someone, or someone's, wanted him dead and had poisoned him. At that word he felt all the pain, all the confusion, all the rage drain out of his body and he couldn't move. He was sitting, though he wasn't entirely sure how he got that way. He had been determined to leave. Screw that he didn't have his wand, he had enough saved to get a new one. Screw that he was sick and probably couldn't really use magic, much less figure out where he was so that he could get home. All he knew was he had to get away from here. But knowing what he knew now, he realized that wasn't an option. Despite his wishes, if someone was trying to kill him the pathetic inhabitants of this home were probably the best answer he had to figure out who and why. So he stayed, and settled in for an uneasy night sleep, despite being told by Harry that he could sleep in a bedroom. There was no way he was letting that boy know that he was accepting their help.

After getting himself back under control, he realized it must still be rather late. He could not remember the last time he ate something, so he decided to go looking for the kitchen. The house was quite dark, with virtually no light flooding in from the outside. Draco had gotten so used to the bright lights of the neighborhood his apartment was in, that it seemed strange to actually have dark at night. So he pulled out the wand that Harry had finally given him back, and cast some dim light at his feet to see where he was walking. He quietly check a few closets, but to no avail. The first was a water closet he hadn't known was there and the second was no more than a coat closet. He descended the stairs at the end of the hall, and found himself in another large hall. He sighed internally, cursing himself for not asking where things were in this bloody house.

As he rounded a corner, he saw a bit of light coming from underneath a small door at the end of the hall. Draco stepped cautiously forward and turned the handle slowly. As he did he heard hushed voices from the bottom of another set of narrow stairs, and smelled what had to have been Yorkshire pudding. It made his stomach cramp with hunger. Normally he would have been cautious and listened in on whatever was going on downstairs, but this evening he couldn't be bothered.

He descended the stairs quickly and was greeted with a warm room that he could only assume served as both the kitchen and dining area. There was a large table down the middle of the room with many chairs around it, a fireplace along the back wall surrounded by stonework, and the small kitchen area off to the right. This was where he saw a man that looked familiar to him, but he couldn't place from here. He had long black hair, pale skin, and an elegance in the way he stood that mirrored the way Draco often thought of himself. He was speaking with a portrait of a woman in the corner, but both stopped at turned as soon as he walked in the room. When he turned, Draco saw that this man had the same steely grey eyes as his own. It was then that he realized that this must be Sirius Black.

The man he had now identified at Sirius gave him a small smile before he spoke. "Ah Mr. Malfoy, we meet at last. Come have a seat."

Draco was wary of the invitation, but a quick glance toward the kitchen made him remember the delicious smelling yorkshire pudding he had smelled that had led him down here in the first place. At the look his stomach growled loudly, which Sirius must have heard.

"You clearly have not eaten. Kreacher!" At this, an old house elf came out of a small door in the wall that Draco hadn't noticed before now. "Get our guest some pudding. And perhaps some mead." The house elf seemed to balk at the idea of helping this man, but clearly had no choice. Draco still greatly wanted to just go back upstairs and not talk to his long forgotten cousin, but knew that if he did not then he would never eat. So he slowly made his way over to one of the many chairs, and sat as his food was brought to him along with his drink. As he began to eat, Sirius came and sat across from him, eying him uncertainly. They sat in silence for a few minutes before he began to speak.

"So, Mr. Malfoy, it certainly is unexpected to have you as a guest, or I guess as a patient would be more accurate, here in my family home. What do you know of why you are here?" Sirius asked, with a tone as if had more questions than just the one.

Draco took a long sip of his mead before answering. They may be helping him, but no one dictated when Draco Malfoy did anything. "I know very little. I know that I was poisoned, I know that Potter saved me, and I know they are called the dark collective. I have no idea why, who they are, what they want, or how I was even found. Maybe you could help me with that." Draco knew the last part was unfair. These people had no reason to trust him and even less reason to care if he lived, and yet here he was, drinking mead and miraculously alive.

"Yes, that's precisely right. It is a curious thing, why someone would want to kill you. To the best of my knowledge, no one has known your whereabouts for quite sometime." Sirius commented, rather quizzically.

"I prefer to live life below the radar after spending so much time in the spot light. It's refreshing" Draco replied sardonically.

"Well, judging from the look of you, you have achieved that end quite nicely. Regardless, you are here now and I figure both of us want some answers."

Draco allowed himself to bite his tongue, though he was quite insulted at the comment on his appearance. The truth was, he did need answers, and he had a feeling that Sirius had at least some. Despite a growing list of snarky retorts that were growing in his head, he remained quiet. Sirius seemed to notice and gave a small smirk, but gratefully said nothing of it, and instead got back to the matter at hand. "Well, I'm going to assume you would like to know what knowledge I have of this group. All I know is there have been whispers, gossip, of a new uprising beginning in the underbelly of society. These aren't like the death eaters, no. They have far more sinister desires. They answer to no group. Pure Blood, half blood, muggle born. They don't care. Their only mission is to watch the world burn."

The sound of this was eerily familiar to Draco, like something he had heard before but could not quite place where. "So what do they want with me, what could I possibly have to do with this?"

Sirius got up and began to pace in front of the fireplace, looking quite lost in thought. "I wish I knew. You seem an unlikely target. I mean, I'm sure you've done quite a bit to anger people, but to spend this long trying to find you..." He trailed off, clearly unsure what to think.

"So now what? I wait like a sitting duck until they try to kill me again? Fucking fantastic. Don't you know anything useful about them? Has no one tried to claim themselves as the leader? How do they even find new followers?"

"You would be surprised how easy it is to find like minded people if you are desperate enough. But no, there is no known leader. Anonymity seems to be important to this group."

Draco thought that was true enough. There were enough foul people in the world, but normally someone wanted the glory. If what Sirius said was true, then this groups intentions could be far more sinister than anything he had been dealing with before. But before he could give it much thought, he heard the door at the top of the stairs swing open and the sound of footfalls. Draco stood, wand at the ready, mostly out of instinct. Yet as the feet descended the stairs he felt foolish. It was only a half asleep looking Harry, hair even more unkempt than usual and in only pajamas, slung a touch too low for civilized society no less. Draco couldn't help roll his eyes as he sat back down.

It seemed to take a moment for Harry to realize what was going on in front of him, and when he did he stopped dead in his tracks. "What the hell did I miss?" His eyes had narrowed in suspicion, but Draco just rolled his eyes again. Harry never was much the type for educated observation.

"Well," Draco drawled, "I believe it's two adults having a conversation. Might as well scamper back to your room Harry."

The half dressed boy stood up in shock at hearing his own name, which was exactly what he had been going for, but recovered quickly. " Shove it , Draco."

"Honestly, I can't listen to you two argue." Sirius chimed in, causing both boys to look rather sullen, though they did shut up. Draco needed too many answers to burn this bridge this quickly. No, he would have to be more careful if he intended to get what he wanted, and Malfoy's always got what they wanted."Now, I believe we were discussing the specifics of your predicament."

"Yes, we were." Draco replied coolly. "I think I may have an idea what you are talking about." Draco couldn't help but think back on a conversation he had with his mother not long after he finished school. He wasn't sure he wanted to Potter and his long ago exiled cousin, but to prevent his death, he felt it was necessary. "I may have overheard something... relevant."

* * *

It was a beautiful summer day at the manor, and Draco couldn't help but be happy, even despite the year he had just had to endure. Going to his last year at Hogwarts had been the hardest thing he had ever done. The dark lord being gone and his family being so closely associated with them had certainly left a sour taste in most of the students mouths, thus leading to him having virtually no friends left. Those that had believed in the dark lords mission had seen his as a coward, those on Potter's side of the war him as the enemy, and everyone else didn't want their neutral status called into question for hanging around him. This led him to spending most of his free time alone. For the first time in his entire life, being a Malfoy didn't offer him any protection or good favor. In fact, it seemed to only bring animosity and more than a few hexes.

Because of all this, he was happy it was done. He could finally move on with his life and try to figure out who the fuck he was supposed to be. And it was exactly this he contemplated as he took a leisurely stroll through one of the manor's many gardens. Looking around, he gingerly touched the edges of an enchanted purple rose whose petals shimmered silver, reflecting the beautiful sunlight of the day. It amazed him that his property had such beauty on it, while the manor itself felt so cold and impersonal. This was one of the many things Draco intended to change when he took possession of his home. No more Dark and dreary for him. He had enough of that the last 3 years to last a lifetime.

As he wandered back inside, he heard faint voices coming from the formal drawing room, and decided to go investigate. He couldn't understand much, but clearly knew he was not supposed to hear this conversation. There was something about a dark something, an uprising, needing more, his duty. Draco couldn't make sense of it all. With the dark lord gone, how could these meetings still be necessary Just as he began thinking about it, he heard steps coming toward the door and quickly moved away so as not to be discovered. Peering out from the shadows, he noticed two men exiting the room. One was a tall man with shoulder length black hair, a tattered leather coat, and boots that looked to be made out of dragon skin. His air reminded Draco of his fathers, very regal. The difference was, this man seemed much more dangerous. The second man was short, had bright red hair, a thick beard, and small green eyes. He didn't look as menacing, but obviously was still dangerous. His robes appeared expensive, but were quite tattered as if far over worn. Both men did not seem like people his parents would associate with, but they gave What were these men doing in the house.

"As always Narcissa," the taller man said, bowing slightly and taking her hand to kiss it, "it has been quite the pleasure. You as well Lucius. I'm sure we will be seeing you soon.

"Yes, I believe you shall." The tone Lucius responded with was more than a little sinister. But with that simple comment, both men turned and walked out of his home.

"Narcissa, please keep me informed if there are any further developments on the project. I will be taking diner alone in my study tonight." And with that, his father took walked out of the room and up the stairs, not even bothering to wait for a response.

Waiting until his fathers foot falls were far away, Draco came back into view,and followed his mother back into the room they had all just left. He found his mother cleaning up a dark stain he couldn't identify, which seemed odd because he couldn't remember ever seeing his mother clean. As he got to the door, he leaned against the frame for a moment, before announcing his presence.

"Isn't that what we have house elves for, Mother?"

Narcissa jumped a bit, before smoothing the skirt of her dress down and turning, face not showing any sign of having been startled. "Draco, I didn't realize you had come back from the gardens. I was just keeping busy with this stain, my magic doesn't seem to want to clean it." Her voice seemed unsteady, as if forcing herself to remain cold.

"Clearly Mother," Draco replied, sauntering toward her. "Who were those people you and Father were speaking with."

"They were no one to concern yourself with." Her normal air of sophistication had clearly returned, as she conjured a rug to cover the stain. Draco couldn't help but wonder what kind of stains can't be cleaned with a simple spell.

"They seemed dangerous, what are we getting our family into now?" Draco didn't mean for it to come out as accusatory as it had, but he did not like how any of this felt. Yet despite his tone, it seemed that he had struck the right chord with his mother.

"Your Father does not wish me to discuss this with you yet. He says you aren't ready. I think he's wrong and this is the perfect time to tell you" She said softly, more to herself then to Draco, while pacing the room. Then, just as quickly as she had started pacing, she stopped right in front of him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "This could be the opportunity for our family to regain what it has lost. There is a new group trying to gain power Draco, an uprising. Those men, they know all about it. They want to help us. They want us to join them and-"

He cut her off before she could continue. "Do you have any idea the hell I went through this year? The number of times I wanted to give up and come home? I never wanted to be a part of your war!"

Narcissa stood back, clearly upset. "Don't you know I only ever wanted the best for you?" Her voice was quiet, but sounded much colder than the words she was saying.

Draco's eyes narrowed, his fury threatening to overtake him, "I will never go back to the life this family forced me to endure since I was born. I want nothing to do with this uprising. You don't care about me, you care about power. You are on your own." He spat these words at his mother.

Narcissa remained surprisingly calm as she looked at him with cold, unfeeling eyes, "You will regret this decision Draco, I promise you that.

* * *

Harry and Sirius stared at Draco with a look somewhere between disbelief and shock on both of their faces as he finished telling the story. It's a moment or two before either man make any sound, and Draco wasn't about to break the tension. It was no surprise when Harry was the first to speak. "Is that why you were hiding from your mom?"

"Brilliant deduction Potter. And to think you didn't even need Granger to come up with that one for you." Sometimes he could not figure out how this boy had been responsible for saving the world. Harry ignored the obviously pointed jab though.

"Draco, it's not safe out there. I think you should stay here until we figure out what's going on. No one will be able to find you here." Harry sounded truly worried, but Draco was still unsure.

"I agree with Harry," Sirius piped in. Draco had nearly forgotten the other man was there, he had been so quiet. "None of us know enough about what's going on to make a decision about this. This home isn't traceable, and even if it were there are powerful wards on it that only allow access to a very select few. You will be safe here."

Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. Harry Potter, ever the Gryffindor, always trying to save anyone he saw in need. Even his enemies. It was going to get him killed one day. Yet he had to admit, the last thing that he needed was to try to go home and get himself killed. Though he would never admit it, he was scared. It had been a while since his life was in danger, and he was not fond of revisiting the feeling. But did he trust his life in the hands of a half blood and a blood traitor?

And just as he was considering staying, he heard Harry's voice shaking him out of his obviously delusional state. "You know Draco, you could always switch and be on the light side this time."

At that, Draco snapped. It had been too much these last few days and he was done. "The light side? I'm not a bloody wanker. I'm not some noble Gryffindor. I don't care about your stupid uprising and I don't care about being good."

"But don't you care about your own fucking life Malfoy! Don't you want to survive? Isn't that supposed to matter to you as a stupid Slytherin?" Harry yelled, clearly having gotten his feathers ruffled, much to Draco's pleasure.

The Draco lowered his voice dangerously as he replied, "Of course, but not under your watch. Take me home, now. I'm done breathing the same air as you." And with that he swept himself upstairs to pack his things, missing the look of concern his temporary hosts shot each other.

Half an hour later, Draco had all of his things and Harry was preparing to apparate them both back to his apartment, because Draco's magic was still too weak. There had hardly been a word spoken since their argument in the kitchen. As he and Harry went outside, Draco saw the sun beginning to peak over the hills in the distance, turning the sky a kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges, and blues. It was a beautiful morning, but he was truly getting sick of seeing this hour.

"You know," Harry's soft voice interrupted the peace of the moment, "it's not too late to change your mind."

Draco shot him a glare. "Take me home golden boy." It was bad enough that he was trying to turn him into the hero, it was worse that he couldn't even use his own magic to get away from here. Luckily though, Harry only gave a small nod in response and didn't try to fight him. Then with a gentle pop, they were outside Draco's door. As he ripped his arm away from Harry, he heard an audible sigh.

"Good luck Draco."Harry replied, so quiet Draco almost missed it. Another pop, and the air was eerily silent. He was alone.

He opened his door and went inside. Everything was the same as when he left, as if this whole thing had been a bad dream. Plopping down on his green couch, he ran his fingers through his hair. Everything felt the same, but at the same time everything was different. Someone wanted him dead, and it may have something to do with what he heard from his mom. Harry Potter and Sirius Black had saved his life. His column was due in a week. He was still alone, but now felt like he was being watched. And he had no idea what he was going to do. Looking at the floor, he grabbed the bridge of his nose feeling a migraine coming on. What was he going to do? His eyes began to slip closed and he could feel his consciousness beginning to slip. Just as he was about to drift off into what would undoubtedly be a restless sleep, he woke with a feeling of dread. Though not sure how, he knew something was coming. A moment later, the stark silence of the room was interrupted by the sound of three sharp knocks on his door.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for being patient with me and continuing to read. I know I was supposed to have this up days ago, but life got in the way. I hope I made it up to you with this super long chapter. The chapters I am writing now seem to be getting longer and longer, so I hope you like and are ok with that. There should be another update in a few days. I have been more motivated to write and have had more free time the last few days.**

**Also, please please please review. I can't know if you guys are liking it or what you think sounds wrong or if you think its awful if you don't tell me. Plus, it helps me to want to write more when you review. So more reviews=faster updates.**

**Anyways, love you all for reading and I hope you are excited to see what comes next.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Harry sighed out loud as he apparated into a park in the middle of London. After the disaster areas that had been the last two days, he needed some time to think and wasn't quite ready to go home or to Grimmauld Place yet. He made sure to apparate to an area he knew was infrequently traveled by muggles with the hope that it would be empty. It was still very early, and a rather brisk autumn morning, so Harry's suspicions were right. With all the arguing and name calling and drama, he needed a good time away from everyone.

How could Draco be so careless? There were people trying to kill him, and though they were certainly not enemies, he should have been grateful for a safe place to stay until they could figure out who was trying to kill him. It just pissed Harry off. As much of a prat as Malfoy was, he had never known him to be an idiot. Harry kicked a rock, and watched it hit a tree scaring a flock of jays into the air. Harry had put his own life at risk saving him, and hadn't even gotten a thank you. He sighed out loud as he kept on down the path, desperately trying to rid his mind of the bloody git. Serves him right anyways. If he wasn't going to look out for himself, then Harry certainly wasn't going to waste the energy trying to save him. He rolled his eyes as he sighed once more. Who was he kidding? He was still going to try to find a way to save the prat, because that was his nature.

Harry shivered as he realized the chill in the air. But despite the cold, he loved this weather. Days like this always made him miss Hogwarts. There was a slight breeze rustling through the red, orange, and brown leaves above him with a slight mist curling along the ground. The sky was a bit grey and the air felt wet with dew, but he could tell it would be sunny before 10am. This was quidditch weather. 5 years ago he and Ron would have been out of bed by now, having scarfed down some coffee, toast and bacon, and been out on the quidditch pitch. They would have never passed up a day like this.

Thinking about that made him stop dead in his tracks. Ron. He had left him, alone, trying to pick out a ring. How was he ever going to explain this? Ron was his best friend, and he had spent the last week and a half spending all his energy on his enemy instead of his friend. It wasn't like he could just say, "Oi Ron, sorry to have buggered off the other day, but I ran into Malfoy and someone had tried to kill him, which seemed more important to me than helping out my best mate." No, that wouldn't do. He would have to pop over to the burrow in the next day or two and try to get his forgiveness.

For now though he planned to enjoy his few, precious moments of solitude before diving back into the questions and predicaments and troubles waiting for him. Wandering on, he took a fork in the road to the left that seemed to wind through some shady trees. This really was a beautiful park. After the war was over, he had had much more time to himself to enjoy the city, and had found this park on one of his many travels. There was a pond with ducks and geese towards the center where kids raced boats in the summer, large expanses of grass for people to play frisbee or with their dogs, and even a small hutch to get food like ice cream or hot dogs on those rare summer days that were hot enough for people to want to be outside. His favorite thing about this park was what the did in December. Towards the north end of the park they sectioned off an area and built up a skate rink. It wasn't as popular as the big one in downtown, but that was part of it's charm. Sometimes he would sneak in late at night and pretend as if it had been built for him alone.

After around an hour though, he knew it was time to go. There were a lot of things he had to take care of today, and now that it was almost nine, he knew Remus and Sirius would be wondering where he was. So, with one last look around at the first signs of the seasons change, he took a big breath and popped back to Grimmauld place.

When he got back inside, he was surprised to find the drawing room empty. With all the activity as of late, he had grown accustom to seeing a doctor or Sirius or Draco walking around. Remembering his hasty exit this morning, he realized he had yet to eat anything, so he made his way to the kitchen. As he entered, he could tell he was not alone in his hunger. A he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw Lupin had conjured a large arm chair to sit in front of the fire. He had obviously been reading, but had paused to smile up at Harry.

"Good morning Harry. I was quite surprised this morning when I awoke to a quiet, empty house. Apparently, no one cared to wake me to inform me that our impromptu guest was leaving." Lupin replied, smile betraying the lack of sincerity in his words. "How disappointing that I didn't get to say goodbye."

Harry sniggered back at him, strolling over to join him in a similar conjured chair. "Yes, I'm sure he sends his highest regards and thanks for your generous hospitality."

Lupin laughed slightly before his face turned serious. "Harry, we should talk about what happened. It seems highly unusual for you to bring anyone here, much less Mr. Malfoy."

Harry's wasn't sure how to respond to that. It was unusual that he brought him here. Actually, Harry had barely been here in the last few months. Ever since he bought his flat in Godric's Hollow, he spent most of his time there, Hermione's apartment in London, or at the Burrow. He felt a small twinge of guilt at the realization. "You're right, it is odd. I guess I just panicked. I knew I needed to get him somewhere safe, and since you and Sirius kept most of the old wards in place, I don't really know anywhere safer. It's not like the Weasley's would have opened their arms to him. I just sort of saw you and Sirius as more open. Especially with what Severus said." Harry shuddered a bit at the memory.

"I think you were right to bring him here. Sirius is more of a bleeding heart then he likes to let on, much like you. James would have never approved of course, but being around Sirius has softened me. Believe it or not, that man learned quite a bit of compassion from you. We all did." Lupin replied. Harry could feel the heat rising to his cheeks.

"Yeah well, too bad Malfoy doesn't have any." Harry couldn't help but brood. He was still furious that the other boy had just walked away, without even trying to find out the truth about what was going on. Lost in his own thoughts, he almost didn't hear Remus reply.

"Harry," his own name was enough to bring him back to the present, Remus' voice was low in question, "are you sure there isn't some reason you are suddenly so concerned with young Draco's actions and well being? Other than just being a good person and a Gryffindor"

Harry scoffed. "What other reason could there possibly be? I hate the git. He's caused me nothing but hell for half my life. Though, I guess he did save my life. Maybe I just feel I owe him a debt." Yeah, that was it. A debt.

Remus looked like he didn't quite believe him, but after a moment nodded his head once. "Alright, if that's all you feel it it." The man stood to leave, grabbing his book off the arm of the chair before making it disappear in a small puff of smoke. Just before he got to the stairs to leave the room, he turned. "Just so you know, if there's ever something else you what to talk to me about regarding your situation with him, I'm always here."

Before Harry could protest, Lupin was gone, leaving him downstairs with more questions then answers. As he gazed into the fire, he felt his eyes start to droop. It had been a very long week, and a very early morning. So with questions about Draco floating around in his head, he drifted off into an easy slumber in front of the fire.

The next time Harry opened his eyes, the fire that had been burning in front of him had turned to embers and he had no idea how long he had been asleep. Though he was fairly certain he had been having a nightmare just before waking, remembering hearing someone scream, but couldn't remember exactly what it had been about. Pushing up to his feet, he stretched out his back. Falling asleep in a chair had definitely not been good on his back, as he could feel the tendons straining and the bones settling back into place. Walking over to the fridge with eyes still droopy, he pulled open the doors and stared at the food not really processing what he was seeing. He shook his head after a few moments, finding nothing of interest, before heading back upstairs. As he reached the landing, he saw that the sun was already halfway across the sky. "Shit," he cursed to himself. He had wasted his whole day.

Walking through the halls, it seemed as if he was the only one here, which he decided was a good thing. He wasn't exactly in the mood for any more inquisition into his motivations. Just as he was walking into the drawing room to read a book, he heard the rustling of feathers as Hedwig swooped over his head and dropped a letter. It was addressed to him. From Ron. "Shit"

_Harry,_

_Thanks a lot for abandoning me mate! I can't believe you just disappeared. Good to know that you had so many other things going on that you couldn't be bothered to wait a bit longer for me to choose a ring. Now I had to go and do it without you and I probably messed up and got something useless. Thought maybe something had happened to you, but then I ran into Pansy and she said she thought she saw you drinking at the pub. Real nice of you! Even popped by your flat to check in on you and when I saw that Hedwig was gone I realized you had gone off somewhere and just not told me. It's been over a week and we hear nothing and have no idea where you are! But Sirius seemed to know, but wasn't talking. I thought we had stopped keeping secrets from each other after the war. I can't believe there's something you are keeping from me. I mean, maybe Hermione, lord know she can't keep a bloody secret, but not me. Just don't tell her I said that. You better have a good explanation for this._

_-Ron_

_p.s. Oh yeah, and you should probably telephone Hermione. She's worried sick about you, even after Sirius told us you were alright._

Harry groaned as he read the letter, running a hand through his messy hair. He should have popped by the Burrow this morning after dropping Draco off, but he didn't think Ron would get so mad. Why did Sirius open his big mouth? It wasn't like they would understand his need to save Draco. He barely understood it. But he had to come up with something. He didn't need his best friends mad at him or thinking he was dead. So it was decided, he was going to have to go over to the Burrow and tell them... something. He sighed out loud before dragging himself upstairs to get ready.

After a hot shower and a change of clothes, Harry was ready to go. It seemed like he hadn't stopped moving all day, even with his nap. This whole bullshit with Malfoy really screwed him up. The other boy was just so pretentious and arrogant! Even with his life in danger, he couldn't swallow his pride and admit he needed help. Then again maybe Harry shouldn't have pushed him so hard. He just didn't know another way to motivate. For some reason, that reason couldn't really explain, he felt very protective over the bloody wanker. Not that he deserved it.

'Great,' he thought to himself. 'Now I'm all worked up again before I go fight with Ron.' Harry huffed. But, he had no choice. So for now he put this latest drama behind him and got him self to the apparation point outside. With one last shake of his head to try to get his mind back on his friends, he finally popped over to the Burrow, just in time to see the sun beginning to slip below the horizon.

As he walked up to the back door, he could hear the distinct sound of the twins laughing at something and saw the back of Hermione's head through the window. The closer he got, the more he could smell the feast Molly must be making. Though he couldn't quite tell everything, he knew he could smell potatoes and what smelled like Cornish game hen. The smell alone made his stomach cramp, reminding him he had basically not eaten today. Walking up, he drummed a quick rhythm on the door, causing everyone to turn towards the door.

"Harry!" Fred and George said in unison as they let him in, with big smiles on their faces. Well, at least he knew these two weren't mad at him. Though, he wasn't positive they even knew how to get mad. He gave them a big smile in return.

Hermione on the other hand turned and had a thousand emotions cross her face at once, from relief to anger and back again. She stormed over to him, and smacked him on the arm. "Don't you ever do that to me again Harry James Potter, I have been worried sick about you all week." But despite clearly trying her hardest to be mad, he words were not echoed in her actions as she wrapped him tightly in a hug.

"I missed you too Hermione. And I'm fine." He took a step back and held out his arms so she could inspect him, before laughing. "I promise I'll explain, but please tell me you have food. I'm starved."

Hermione didn't seem to accept his answer, but didn't have time to protest. As if on cue, Molly walked into the room and gave Harry a big smile. "Harry! I wasn't expecting you. It's so good to see you, please come sit. There's plenty of food." Without even waiting for a response, she began fixing him a plate. He was right on the game hen, and along with it was carrots, green beans, boiled potatoes, and what looked like fresh baked bread. He couldn't have been happier with this feast. When you live with two bachelors and a constantly disgruntled house elf, good food is a rarity. As Harry began to eat, everyone else sat down and began having their dinner as well.

With that, conversation eased into light conversation. Fred and George had just gotten back from Bulgaria where they had been testing the properties of a certain berry to turn a person into a purple ferret. Apparently when they tested it, Fred couldn't change back for nearly 2 days, until they ran into a witch in the woods who knew the antidote. Harry couldn't help but laugh at the image. And Hermione had spent the entire week at Ginny's new townhouse in Ireland. There was apparently some big secret, but even Molly couldn't get it out of her. All in all the evening was going quite well. So much so that Harry almost forgot the reason he had come over in the first place. That is, until Ron walked in.

All at once everything he had been through hit him in the gut. Draco, the dark collective, Ron being pissed, and it was all too much at once. "Nice to see you can reappear for dinner, mate." He spat the last word with venom in his voice. He hadn't seen Ron this angry since 4th year.

But Harry tried to keep his cool, it wouldn't do to go flying off the handle at Ron. "I'm sorry, can we just talk? I'd like to explain."

"Well come on then." Ron turned and walked back out the door. Harry sighed, and no one else said anything. Clearly they all had known what had been going on. Looking around, it was clear no one was going to help him out of this one. So he got up dejectedly, with Hermione following suit. This was the part of the evening he had least been looking forward to.

Once outside, Ron turned and looked at him with a look of rage on his face. "What the fuck Harry? We go shopping then you just disappear on me. I stop by your flat, no ones there. I talk to Sirius, he won't tell me what's going on. This is bull shit, I'm supposed to be your best friend."

Harry let him finish his rant before he even tried to say anything. He understood why Ron was so mad, he would have been too, but only because he worried about his friends. "I know it was shitty, and I'm sorry I haven't been in contact. It was official ministry business that I couldn't talk about at the time. I was put on assignment."

Ron looked a tad confused. It was as if he understood Harry's explanation but wanted to stay mad. "Assignment?" He asked, quizzically. Even Ron at his angriest couldn't pass up the curiosity of a secret assignment, which is exactly what Harry had been banking on. And it wasn't entirely untrue. In fact, Harry realized that there was a stack of papers waiting on his desk, and one of them was particularly relevant.

"Yes. I would have come sooner but I have been stuck at Grimmauld Place all week. I can't tell you everything but what I can tell you is something is happening in the wizarding world again, and it doesn't bode well for the peace we have been enjoying lately. That's actually part of why I'm here, I think I need you guys help." Harry told his friends, thinking back over what he had heard at work.

He had heard the rumors around the auror's office of course, that there was something bad coming, talk of a new evil clamoring for power. But that's the way it seemed to be every few months at the ministry since Harry had started. Rumors, small talk, theories, and almost all of them ended up being nothing. So he had brushed it off, something in the to do pile on his desk of evil doers and new dark lords to check out. Until he got some solid proof, what was the point in going on a wild goose chase anyways? But now he really wished that he had listened.

As they spoke, the three sat in a clearing not far from the area they always used for Quidditch. How he wished he could be up in the air flying with his friends instead of going through what could be the makings of another war. Harry told them everything he knew which, admittedly, wasn't much. He told them about the attempt on Malfoy's life (while leaving out that it was Malfoy), told them how the group had no leader, and told them their perceived motivations. As he talked, both Hermione and Ron stayed very quiet.

"I don't even know if I'm supposed to be telling you any of this, but I don't want to go into this alone. You two were my greatest allies when we fought Voldemort, and I need you by my side again. I have a feeling this is going to get very ugly very quickly." Harry explained.

Hermione had been uncharacteristically quiet, but suddenly spoke up. "Harry, we will always be by your side, you know that. I'm worried though. This feels bad. I'm going to need to do some research, ask around a bit. Maybe I should call Lupin. I'll have to be discreet of course." She seemed lost to her thoughts, thinking through her usual list of needed tasks. This was why he always came to them.

"Think you can forgive me now, Ron?" Harry asked.

Ron certainly looked less angry. "I suppose. But maybe next time, give a guy a little warning before you go off to save the day again."

Harry beamed a big smile at him. "Can do, mate. Come on, let's head back inside."

All three got up and started for inside. As they walked, Hermione slowed her walk slightly, and Harry followed suit. Hermione spoke to him in a hushed voice, clearly not wanting to be overheard. "Harry, I have a really bad feeling about all of this. Things have been too quiet. Are you sure you can't tell me who they are targeting, it may help me identify what's going on."

Harry shook his head. "No, I can't. Not yet at least. When the time is right, I'm sure we will talk about it. But I promise, I will tell you anything I learn and don't have to keep secret."

Hermione looked down at her feet a moment, as if forcing herself not to pry, before stopping and looking Harry right in the eyes. "Just be careful ok?"

He gave her a half smile. "I will be, I promise."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for being patient with me uploading guys. This was a harder chapter for me to get down, so it took some time. But I'm happy I took some time with it because I'm super happy with how it turned out. I hope you guys will be too. Also I wanted to tell you, my upload schedule might become a little erratic. I just started a new job and I don't know how often I will be writing. But I assure you, it will get up! Anyways, please review! I haven't been getting any and it really will make me want to write more and helps me give you a better product. Thanks so much guys, and see you soon!**


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